At Last
by Likaella
Summary: You used to wish for happiness. You know better now. Post 3x22
1. The Queen is Dead

**Alright. This is not the first OUAT fic I wanted to post. I had others planned, big plans for this summer with two great fics, one Evilcharming, one OutlawQueen. But last night's episode killed me. I love Regina, I'm proud of how she has grown during those three seasons and I empathize a great deal with the Evil Queen. Regina is my favorite. I love the show ****_because_**** of her. Last night was unnecessary cruel and downright unfair to her. She does not deserve this. So my take is very depressing, be warned. I needed an outlet. Sorry.**

**Warning: Major Character Death**

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**Chapter one: The Queen is dead**

You see him look at her like he never looked at you before, like she was the sun, the sky and the stars above, like she was the reason there was a goddamn earth in the first place.

You can't stand to look at Miss Swan; that damn, dumb blond bitch. So much like her mother, never, ever thinking about the consequences of her actions, never believing that some lines aren't meant to be crossed, but crossing them all the same.

You can't bring yourself to look at the Charmings, and their brand new baby Neal, but you manage to catch Snow's horrified look and the anger that flashes through David's eyes when he looks at Emma. They know this is wrong. _Some lines must not ever be crossed._

You take a shuddering breath and the sound is lost among Robin's sobs and Marian's trembling laugh. You are suffering. You are suffering so much.

You find the strength to turn away and you head to the door, but not before Hook sends you a look of deep pity mingled with remorse and you want to hurt him, you want to hurt him for daring _pitying _you, for helping his insipid girlfriend bringing back someone that should have stayed dead.

Every step is torture, every breath is unwanted, but you make it outside and halfway down the street before you feel a hand on your arm. You did not see Henry running after you; you did not saw him pushing Emma away with hissed words of anger and a mild disgusted look towards the renewed Locksleys before he took off after you.

You take his hand off your arm and into your own hand and you stay silent. You just walk and walk and walk, until the two of you finally reach the house.

You enter. You close the door. You look at him, and you don't feel anything.

He's looking right back at you though, he's looking at you like he saw you die, and why is that? You wonder. Did you die? _Did you die today?_

And now he framing your face with trembling hands and then, your son, your wonderful, kind, _good _son tells you _sorry, sorry, sorry, Mom._

And you collapse.

Your knees gave out, they hit the floor so hard your entire being rattles and Henry follows you down, of course he does, and holds you tight, so tight and his hand is going through your hair in a soothing way, the way yours always did during those ten years you raised him while he raised you up, all unknowing.

Your breath hitches, you fight it, it hitches again and your throat is closing and suddenly you can't breathe, you can't think, you can't see and you fight all of this but your body fights back and you know, you know it's tired of taking blow after blow, you know it aches for release, any kind of release and suddenly you are done.

You forget what your son means to you when you fling yourself away from him, and you don't hear his scream when you wrench your heart, that hideous, pitiful, _treacherous_ thing, out of your chest.

You start to squeeze it, you intend to crush it, be done with it, because why not? _Why not?_

Henry knocks you over. He hurls himself at you and lands on top of you, breathing hard, shouting things you cannot make sense of and crying. He's crying, he's crying so hard and his face is above yours and it feels like it's raining.

He's crying when he takes your heart and kisses it, like one would kiss a booboo better, You look back up at Henry and he's crying when he pushes your heart back inside of your chest and you wonder when he got the ability to do so. He crying when he asks you, _begs _you not to kill yourself and he's telling you he needs you, he needs you alive and with him but you are just so tired. You are so tired and you're bleeding inside. You just want it to stop.

You tell him so.

He cries harder.

But you're his mother, you are his mother, more so than Miss Swan will ever dream to be, so you put your arms around him and hold him and you don't like how frail and small and broken you are, you don't like how your arms tremble and your heart and your soul are _loathing_ you for forcing them into this life still, but you cannot seek oblivion because Henry is your son and you are his mother and you love him.

But oh, how you wish otherwise.

Hours later, Henry is lying with you in your giant, cold bed and it took some convincing to get him to sleep, to persuade him that you were not going to kill yourself while he slept. Outside it starts to snow and you briefly wonder about that because you know it's not supposed to. It's May, and it may be Maine, but even in Maine snowing this late into spring is anything but normal. But you'll be glad if you never saw the sun again, so you let it go.

You are spread next to your son, still, and you wish Zelena succeeded; you wish you were never born. You used to wish for happiness. You know better now.

You are spread next to Henry and find yourself grateful that he could cry the tears you have not, for you are no longer capable of such a thing.

You are spread next to the only true love of your life and you frown, let out a startled breath. Then a confused one. Then a painful one.

You close your eyes as pain overtakes your body, starting with your left arm and insinuating itself into every fiber of your battered being.

You turn your head towards Henry because you want your boy to be the last thing you see before the end. Always.

You close your eyes and your heart gives out. At last


	2. Long live The Prince

**Ok. I am deeply flattered by the reviews and feedback, I've gotten here, on Google plus and Tumblr and AO3, really thank you. I got to be honest, this was supposed to be a one-shot, but you guys are so keen on wanting others characters reactions that my mind took me elsewhere and I ended up with this. Enjoy and tell me if you think I should continue this.**

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**Chapter Two - Long Live The Prince  
**

You wake up suddenly, clearly, with no lingering feel of sleep. You wake up as if you were never asleep. You wake up and you know, _you just know_ that Life as you knew and enjoyed it is now over. You wake up cold, but it's not because of the snow you can see furiously falling down outside through the window of your mother's bedroom.

You wake up cold because the most resilient part of you, the most beautiful part of you, has vanished.

Still, what your heart knows, your mind refuse to accept, and you are awake, lying in your mother's bed and you can feel her next to you but you can't bring yourself to look. You can't.

You shiver.

Your eyes stay stubbornly fixed on the ceiling, the creamy white perfect ceiling that you had wished to mess up so often when you were a child, and your hand, your trembling hand reaches out blindly, seeking out your mother's. A gasp rips from your lips when you find it.

Her hand is colder than yours.

You blink. You bite back a scream. You bite your tongue and you bleed.

You turn your head and you see her, tragic and beautiful even in her death, lying next to you, no tears on her face. _The fairest of them all_, you think, and you truly, utterly believe that.

You look at her for a long time, frozen inside, unable to feel, unable to move. And maybe you should cry, maybe you should scream, break something, shake her, _do something_, but there is nothing left in you that remotely seems like willpower, so you look at your dead mother, press yourself against her cold body and settle your gaze on the outside view, trees flinching and bowing under the assault of the bellowing snow storm that reflects the tragedy of what is happening.

She's your mother. She's your mommy, she was always there, even when you didn't deserve her, especially when you didn't deserved her, and she loved you so fiercely, so utterly, so _madly_ that you just know she did not kill herself. She promised not to, she promised, she promised.

Maybe because all will, joy and hope had deserted you, you instinctively know that her heart gave out. That she just couldn't take any more of this _hell_ she had to call life.

You will not cry. You have cried enough. You rise from her bed and tenderly kiss her forehead. You look around the room. You flex your fingers.

A burst of white and black flames escape from your hand.

It is ironic that her death led you to your magical abilities. But this will work to your advantage. This will work for the _better_; now that you are _aware_, aware of everything, aware like you never were before, aware of the magic fuel that you carry within yourself, aware of the elemental reason behind the blue of Earth, aware that you are powerful, more powerful than anyone in this town, and an equal match to the Queen.

You are also aware that this storm raging outside is not natural. You are aware that Emma must have screwed up more than you thought. You wonder if Storybook's new guest might be willing to help you. You can convince them. You know you can.

You turn to your mother, your broken and dead mother, the real one, the tortured one, and you kiss her again, a light brush on her pale lips, and you're murmuring to her, _promising_ to her, that she won't stay dead long. She won't, she won't, she won't.

And she will be happy. You don't know how for now. But you will give her everything. Just like she did for you.

Your hands glows and that glow went straight to her, enveloping her, protecting her and preserving her essence. You don't know how you know that, but you don't doubt it.

You take your coat, put your shoes on, pull your hood over your head and you leave the house the exact same way you entered it, in silence.


	3. The Prince's Wrath

**Ok. Thank y'all for your reviews, seriously you are amazing. You are the reason why I update so fast and why this chapter is long and really, keep reviewing if you want more, it's fantastic to know I can share this with you people. In this chapter, warning for Henry, or should I say Prince Henry's wrath. David, Tink and Roland's relationship with Regina will be answer later on. Enjoy and tell me what you think.**

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**Chapter three: The Prince's Wrath  
**

The snow storm would no doubt feel like whip against the skin of anyone else, but it doesn't affect you. Your eyes are clear, wide open, you hold yourself and your head high and you keep walking determined, unbreakable and unforgiving. You can feel the bloody storm howling in outrage at being unable to stop your course and when it roars at you, you roar back.

You keep walking and walking and walking until you finally reach Granny's diner. You are as amused as you are irritated to notice that everyone is still inside, for they are too afraid to brave the Devil's storm. This is mildly unfortunate, you think. You really, _really_ don't want to be confronted by the mass right now and you definitely have no patience for fools.

There are only two people you need to take with you. You know they will come willingly but you didn't want to have to seek them in front of half the goddamn town.

But you must. Your mother, your beautiful and dead mother is counting on you.

You are just a little unsure that you will be able to control yourself if you see Robin Hood or if Emma tried to stop you. It is not easy, it is _hard_ to push back your feelings of hatred and anger and despair, to shove them back in the darkest pit of your desolated soul, but you do it. You do it because your mom died and would gladly stay dead if she saw you destroying people for revenge.

So, you take a deep breath and you get a firm, iron grip on your murderous feelings and restrain them with your love for the Queen.

You do all that with a whole new appreciative respect for the _Evil Queen_.

When you enter the diner, everyone goes silent. People are staring and gaping at you and you know you must be a sore sight to behold, red-rimmed eyes but no more tears to cry, pale and taunt face but with no trace of frost on it, body string tight and ready for war but not a single snowflake on your clothes.

But you don't have time to answer stupid questions or unwanted inquiries, you are here for one reason and you have a mission to accomplish. You take two steps inside and look around for David and Tinkerbell, but before you have the chance to call for them, Emma charges at you and pulls you into a hug that makes your entire skin _crawl_.

The fool mistakes this for a sign that you are cold and process to squeeze you harder and this time it's your entire soul that rebels at the idea of one of your mom's _executioners_, touching you, holding you, like she owns you, like she has any right to do so.

Only your mother is allow, only the Queen, but the Queen is dead and you have no use, no patience, _no love_ for the Savior, you want her _away_ from you **right now**.

So you _push_ her. You forget for one second about your newfound abilities and your resolve not to give in to the darkness of your soul. You forget all of that and you push Emma away from you, you push her so hard that she falls on her ass on the floor and she looks up at you and she looks shocked, hurt and confused and all you can think is that you should have _pushed her harder, blast her to the wall, pin her to the ceiling._

"_Henry,_" she says and the single word seems to contain all the pain she can muster and you actually sneer at her, you want to laugh, you want to scream but her pain is not enough, it's not even close to what she should feel, but really, you are not surprised because what does she knows about pain? About taking it and dying because of it? You are disgusted by the sight of her, she ruined everything, _she ruined your mother_. You woke up and your mom was dead and this is mostly Emma's fault and _you will never forgive her for this._

You don't bother saying a word to her and walk past her, careful not to let any of her limbs touch you, and call for your allies with a commanding, royal voice, the voice your mother gave you.

David and Tinkerbell both approach you without any hesitation and you can see it on their faces, you can see the anguish, the worry, the dreadful feeling that something must be wrong, so wrong, and you hold both their eyes and silently demand silence. At least until the three of you are out of this snake pit.

"I need the two of you to come with me," you said and they both nod and you feel a wave of affection for them, because you know they both love your mom in their own way. Behind you the pirate helps Emma to her feet and she stupidly dares to address you again.

"Henry? What… what is going on, why... where is Regina?"

And just like that you lose that admirable but pitiful restrain you have on your rage and you whirl around to face Emma, and your words are poison arrows and bullets and you hurl it all at her.

"Don't speak of her in front of me! Don't you even dare to say her name! You have _no right_ to let her name cross your lips! And do not speak to me either, leave me be, or I swear _you will regret it_."

Your words are delivered with an utter, bone-deep rage. And the diner is as silent as a tomb and you know without looking at them that your grandfather and Tinkerbell must have realized that Regina is dead, because she always had a tight leash on the vicious creature you had the potential to be and now you are free.

Emma stand there, gaping at you, looking all kinds of hurt and you shoot her the most contemptuous look you can muster and you hear a few people gasp because you know, _you know_ you look just like the mayor right now. But really, what did they expect? She is your _mother_ and you would rather look like her in her anger and contempt than that clueless creature _only_ mother to you through an accident of birth.

"What exactly did you think was going to happen when you brought back Maid Marian here?" you ask her, letting the scorn and fury infiltrate your voice. "Did you honestly think that you could cheat Death without consequences? That you had the right to change the past to your heart's content? How arrogant can you be, _Emma_?"

The accusations you are throwing at her make a dent in her self-righteous armor, but not as much as the return of her given name coming out of your mouth. And you know it hurts, and you are glad for it, because when your mother comes back from the dead, she will be the only woman you will ever call _mom._

You barely register the flinches and gasps going through the town inhabitants as they watch you put the savior in her damn place but you manage to catch a glimpse at Robin's ashen face and Maid Marian's confused one.

You do not notice Roland's expression.

"Henry," Emma starts with a pleading expression but you can see she still full of crap, full of herself and she doesn't understand the disaster she had created. "Henry… I just wanted to save her life… Reg… the Queen's guards were going to execute her, I had no choice!"

"**You had a fucking choice!**" you roar, and this time you don't hold anything back, and Emma cringes at the volume and venom of your voice. "This was her _destiny_ to die, at that place and at that time! It was not on you to intervene and change that! And how do you know she did not escape after all? How do you know she was to die that day anyway? God, you just don't think before you act, do you? Who the fuck do you think you are, Emma?"

"I…"

"You are a _fool_! You are a fool and because you played _God_, because you had the _audacity_ to think you could cheat _Death_, you just brought its wrath on this town. You just created a situation where grief will take over all of us, where the smallest change could create a ripple effect that could _tear this very place apart_! You don't want to believe it, but you have blood on your hands. You are no savior. You are a destroyer. You are a _murderer_."

Emma takes a step back and you advance, despite David's hand on your shoulder.

"What do you think is going to happen exactly?" you ask her in a tone dripping with sweet sarcasm and you see her shiver and you are glad. "That woman –" you point in the vague direction where the Locksleys are sitting, "doesn't belong here. This is not her time and this is not her place. The whole thing is wrong, and since your _hubris_ spares her, it is my guess that someone else will die because she lives."

This time you recognized Snow's and Robin's gasps alongside the buzzing sound the unnerved people are starting to make around you.

"For as long as she's here, someone will die, for the days she is stealing from Time. _Every action has consequences._ This is yours."

Emma looks horrified and so does Hook but the fool of a pirate still manages to ask:

"How do you know that, mate?"

And your lips curls above your teeth and you want to rip his head off for asking but you must deliver that special blow because you want Emma _destroyed_ for what her careless act cost you.

"Someone already died."

The words leave you with a bitterness that makes your stomach _ache_. You couldn't save her before and she died in her bed, with you sleeping. You were sleeping and she died and _dear God_, she might as well have died alone. Your heart hurts so much right now, you would gladly rip it out but you immediately shake off that thought. For all the love you have for the Queen, you are not her.

And now, Emma is crying and you scoff at her because what good will her tears do? You have no use for them and there are actually starting to anger you.

"You are the last person in this goddamn town who has the right to cry," you spit at her and she hiccups, devastated. "You should focus on saying goodbye to the people close to you because you don't know who is going to die next! It might be Snow, or Hook, it might even be little Neal!"

This time when you feel David's hand on your shoulder tremble, you stop. You turn around to face him and Tinkerbell and you notice that grief is marring both their faces and you think of your dead mother and you blink back your own tears.

"Don't worry," you murmur to your grandfather, "I won't let it happen. And Mom's death is not natural, I can bring her back and I will."

The diner bursts out in exclamations and cries at your last words, as those useless people finally realize that the Queen is dead and that you, Henry Mills, always _Mills,_ came to your magical inheritance.

But David and Tinkerbell stand tall, trusting and nod at you. They will help you, do anything for you and they love your mom, no matter how difficult it had been to do so, they love her and they want her back.

You raise your hands and two glowing spheres appear above them. You send them towards David and Tink and they don't even flinch. _Yes_, you think, _they will do_.

"It will protect you from the storm," you say to them and you watch as David catch Snow's gaze and she just nods at him, assuring him she'll be fine and to do what he must. You watch as neither David nor Tinkerbell spare a glance at Emma or Hook and the three of you head out for the door. Finally.

You are almost there when you feel something weird crawling up the back of your neck. At the corner of your eye you manage to catch the reason for that vibe of power you can feel.

Roland is looking back at you and his warm brown eyes are now blue with magic and grief.

You turn around and hide a smile as you exit the diner after the Green Fairy and the Shepherd Prince.

Things just got interesting.


End file.
